


his heart pumped seawater

by Triskai



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:29:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3636765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triskai/pseuds/Triskai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Few things were beautiful about Kirkwall. Fenris found two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	his heart pumped seawater

He had the urge to clear the ground, to look out and see nothing. At first, he’d picked up his blade and eyed the garish statues that decorated the mansion, but then thought better of it. Mushrooms and corpses were one thing. Pottery shards on the floor when he walked about barefoot were another.

So he went to the docks.

The place smelled of rotting fish and was infested with those infernal birds (did the things ever shut up?), but at least he could see the horizon. In Lowtown the buildings were thick and the thieves were thicker, and in Hightown the nobles side-eyed him and made oblique complaints (“They’ll let anyone in Hightown these days!”). People were too busy at the docks to care about a strange elf, leaving Fenris free to lean against a wall and watch the sunlight leap off the waves.

Few things were beautiful about Kirkwall, but the sea was one of them. The sight and sound of the waves rolled over him rhythmically, like a second heartbeat. On days when his past clung to him like spiderwebs or the pain from his tattoos threatened to overwhelm, he would go to the sea and let everything just… wash away. Something about it was freeing.

Minrathous had been a port city as well. Danarius’ home there had a spectacular view of the water. Fenris remembered it clearly: the deep, pure blue of the lake on sunny days, the forest-like expanse of masts, the one bridge that led to the far shore, just barely in sight. There had been nothing freeing in those waves. For a slave, those waters squeezed the island like a vise. It was too far to swim to the other shore and the bridge was heavily guarded. The water surrounding Minrathous did more than cut off escape – it crushed the very thought of escape, buried all hope of freedom. It, as much as the magisters’ shackles and beatings, was what made a slave.

Fenris closed his eyes and listened to the waves. This wasn’t Minrathous. This was Kirkwall, and here the waves were freeing.

“Fenris?”

His eyes snapped open and his hand was halfway to his sword before he registered who’d spoken. “Hawke?”

She smiled apologetically, stepping towards him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, it’s – fine.” Fenris winced inwardly. That came out much harsher than he’d intended. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Yes, well” —she settled against the wall beside him, shoulder just barely brushing his— “Varric dropped by and said you were looking… what was it? “Like you’d just swallowed a lemon?” He pointed me towards the docks and said I’d better find you before you hatch eggs.”

“Before I what?”

“Hatch eggs. Because you brood.” She grinned, and Maker help him, Fenris’ lips twitched in response. That smile was infectious. 

“I do not brood,” he insisted, but there was no real heat behind the words. 

Hawke raised an eyebrow. “Then what’re you doing?”

“I’m…” He hesitated. ‘Listening to the sea’ was inadequate somehow. There was more to it than that, if only he could put it into words. “I’m thinking. About being free.”

Hawke frowned and opened her mouth. Fenris continued quickly. He wasn’t sure if he could keep talking if he was interrupted, and something told him that he had to voice this.

“I am no longer a slave, but I am not sure if I know how to be free.” He turned back to the sea, let it wash away the tightness in his throat. “I have been my own man for years, but what do I have to show for it? Years spent waiting for my former master, squatting in his mansion… Some days I wonder if I ever escaped Danarius at all.”

“You could move in with me.”

Fenris shook his head. “I know, but that – it wouldn’t help. Truth be told, I don’t know what would.”

An uncomfortable silence followed, filled only by the waves and the faint sounds of dockworkers calling to each other. Fenris kept his eyes on the waves. He didn’t want to see hurt – or worse, pity – in Hawke’s face.

“Maybe you should travel.”

Fenris glanced back at Hawke, who wore a thoughtful look. “Where to?”

“Anywhere you want. No plans.” She picked up speed, warming up to the idea. “We could become pirates and sail the high seas, going where the wind takes us—”

“Us?”

“Of course,” she said, not breaking stride, “I’d be with you. We’d sail all over Thedas hunting slavers and getting rich. The handsome elven captain and his dashing first mate. What about it?”

Fenris thought about the beautiful, freeing sea. He imagined standing on the deck of the ship surrounded by waves, knowing that it was his, holding the wheel and turning it in any direction he wished to go. And always, always, Hawke beside him ready with a quip and a helping hand. Something stirred in him. Something he hadn’t dared feel in a long time. 

Hope.

“I would like that,” he said, and meant it.

Hawke smiled, and Fenris let himself smile back. A real smile this time, not just a twitch of the lips. 

Few things were beautiful about Kirkwall. The sea was one thing.

Hawke was another.

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my friend Lydia. Happy birthday!


End file.
